


and if you ask me i would do it again

by plinys



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 5 Times, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 09:04:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13655808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: This is a mistake. A mistake that something stirring deep inside of her wants to make again.(Or: 5 times Dinah hooks up with Siren while telling herself it's a mistake, and the one time she realizes that it isn't.)





	and if you ask me i would do it again

1 

The first time it catches her off guard. The hot and sudden press of lips up against hers, bruised knuckles holding tight to keep her close rather than to fight her off. 

Her body reacts before her mind, kissing back instinctively, pressing up against the body against hers. She’s had hate sex before, actually likes it a lot more than any sort of committed relationship. Heat and passion comes easy for Dinah. It’s everything else that just doesn’t.

There’s the sharp iron taste of blood on her lips, hands that pinch too tight at her hips, as she’s pushed back into the sharp brick wall of the alleyway. Dinah reacts much the same, biting down on the lip in her mouth, while her hand winds tightly in the other woman’s hair with the intention to pull and hurt.

It’s only, when they break apart for air, that her mind catches up with her body and registers exactly who it is that she had been kissing moments before.

Not that she hadn’t known.

Just that it was easier to deny when it was hot lips pressed against her own.

And not all too familiar eyes staring into her own, too close for comfort.

She feels caught off guard, unbalanced, shaken, and the sight of the  _ Black Siren  _ in front of her, bottom lip kiss swollen and red from where Dinah had bitten it moment before, does nothing to help that feeling. 

This is a mistake.

A mistake that something stirring deep inside of her wants to make again.

A mistake that feels like a punch to the gut.

“Canary, what’s going on,” the sound of Curtis’ voice in her ear - of the  _ team  _ \- brings her back to the present, like a bucket of ice water being dumped over her head.

And when she roughly pushes at Siren to put more distance between them, the other woman moves back willingly, holding up her hands in a mocking movement. 

“Till next time.”

  
  


2

There wasn’t supposed to be a next time.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

But one second they’re fighting, neck and neck, equally matched. 

And the next thing Dinah knows, she’s pulling Siren into a kiss hot and heated with bite, because she wants too, because she’d seen the other woman in the abandoned warehouse and all she had been able to think of was how much she wanted to be pressed up against her.

She is now. Siren’s hips moving against her own, shifting, looking for pressure and pleasure through the layers of their respective costumes. 

They're costumes don't give much. Kevlar isn't made for fucking, and she feels too tight, too wound up, trapped beneath her layers. 

Too close and not close enough to Siren all at the same time.

Dinah bites down on her lip, harsh and unforgiving, and Siren let's out a gasp of her own, a little pained but mostly turned on. The hands on Dinah’s hips tightening as the kiss depends.

A part of Dinah worries what the team would think if they found them like this.

Pressed up together in a dark corner while the battle rages around them.

Another part of her doesn't care.

  
  


3

The signs of someone having broken in would be obvious to anyone, even someone without Dinah’s training. She takes out her gun, an impulse now and forever, as she uses the toe of her boot to slowly shift her door from where it lays cracks open. 

She’s not sure why she’s surprised at the sight of Siren in her apartment. Sitting on the back of her couch. Her hands held up in a sort of mock offering of peace.

But she is.

“Took you long enough,” Siren says, a half greeting, with a mocking twist.

Dinah holds her gun steady for a moment. It would be so easy to take the shot. To finish this all here and now, but something stops her, the casual smirk on Siren’s lips.

“How did you find me?”

Siren shugs easy and casual, a not answer. 

Instead she speaks with a sugar sweet voice, “Nice place.”

Dinah can’t help but roll her eyes. She tries with another question, “How did you get in here?”

Another shrug.

Another not answer. 

“The door.” 

“I swear, if you-

“Oh stop that, you don’t want to shoot me,” Siren says, confidence and a hint of something like  _ innuendo  _ in her voice.

“I don’t?” 

A question, not an answer.

Even though she knows. Knows that there’s a reason she’s hesitating. A reason that she always hesitates when Siren comes around. Knows that she wants to do something far different.

“No, you don’t,” Siren says, pushing off of the couch and moving closer to DInah. “You want to  _ fuck _ me.”

She does.

When Siren pushes Dinah’s gun to the side with two fingers she lets her. Lets it fall to the ground a moment later, when something more pressing is presented before her. She kisses Siren, kisses her like she had in the alleyway, in that abandoned warehouse, in the middle of the fight, but easier, with no reason to hide. 

Kisses her like she wants so much more.

Hot and heavy, rough as always. Hands moving quickly against bodies, pulling off the layers of their clothes until it’s flesh against flesh. Easier now that they’re both dressed casually rather than in their costumes. 

Until there’s nothing but pure need and want between them. 

“Fuck me,” Dinah hisses, pulling back, when Siren’s fingers pinch against the skin of her hip.

That same smirk is on her lips, though they’re now kiss swollen, a hint of red there from where Dinah had bit down, once more, consistent in her need to see Siren’s lip split once again by her.

“All in good time, baby girl.”

  
  


4

They’re at a hotel, because there was only  _ so many  _ times that they could keep doing this at her place. Only so many times she could keep letting Siren in knowing that it was a mistake each time and yet… Wanting to make the same mistake endlessly.

This wasn’t exactly stopping it.

This was almost worse.

A hotel key slipped to her during the midst of a fight. A smirk, a hint for so much more, carried with a very clear an implication.

One that had led Dinah here. 

To a hotel room, too fancy to have been paid for legally, something that Dinah was choosing to ignore at the moment, because Siren was kissing her. Pressing her down into the plush white sheets, taking her apart inch by inch. In ways that no other partner had seemed to ever know to take Dinah apart before. 

“I want to try something,” Siren says, the smallest hint of hesitance in her voice. 

It’s shocking.

Different from their usually dynamic.

Enough that it gives Dinah pause as well. 

She props herself up on her shoulders to look at Siren, settled between her legs. Her hands squeezing down tightly on Dinah’s thighs holding her in place. A look on her face that mirrors the hesitance in her voice from a moment before.

A pause. 

“Oh yeah,” Dinah prompts.

“Do you trust me?”

There’s something about the way she says it. A hint of teasing, and innuendo, but also a hint of something more.

“No,” Dinah says.

Because it’s the truth.

Because it’s them.

Because this isn’t about trust.

This is about want.

This is about power.

This is about desire.

This is about pent up passion. 

This is about  _ sex _ .

The hesitant look she had been shooting Dinah turns into something else, dark and desire, and above all else. 

A smirk, on Siren’s lips, “You don’t have to trust me. You just have to give me control.” 

  
  


5

“I hate you so much,” Dinah hisses, because she’s angry and she’s hurting and  _ this  _ -

This thing between her and Siren.

This didn’t make a difference. At least, it wasn’t supposed to. 

“I’ll kill you, I’ll-”

“No,” Siren says.

She’s too close. 

Close enough that Dinah wants to both pull her in and push her away. It’s a complicated mix of emotion, pain and longing and hate and wanting and - 

“I hate you,” Dinah says, because it’s all she can say.

All she wants to say. 

“No,” Siren says, again, for soft like she’s calming a beast. Dinah feels a little bit like one in this moment, like she could become one. Were it not for the soft fluttering of Siren’s hand on her arm, an unnatural sort of comfort. “You don’t, we’re just on different sides.”

It’s the first logical thing she’s heard Siren say. Perhaps the only logical thing. She’s angry and it hurts, an ache in her chest that she feels like will never properly go away. But she doesn’t want to be the only one hurting.

She wants Siren to feel it too.

She wants to feel Siren too.

When they kiss, it is soft, only for a second. A ghost of something that turns harsh and rough a moment later. That turns into the familiar push and pull. Their bodies moving against each other, falling together like they always do, inevitable.

Until all Dinah can think about is Siren against her.

Until nothing else matters.

Until she can’t remember that she’s supposed to be hurting.

  
  


+1

“Don’t bleed on my carpet.”

There’s a noise, not quite a laugh, not quite a hiss of pain, but it’s something. Sharp and sudden and unpleasant. Something that causes Dinah’s eyebrows to knit together in concern. A beating her in chest, sudden and sharp, her heart threatening to escape her chest.

Not just with want this time, but with something else.

Emotions, really emotions.

More than just hate and lust.

Not the sort of thing that she had ever expected to feel for Siren and yet… 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Dinah says.

“He was going to hurt you,” she replies, easy and honest. An admission that is both shocking and true. Dinah’s not entirely certain that she would have done the same. That she would have taken a shot for Siren for her… Whatever they were.

Whatever this was. 

Siren shifts slightly, moving forward towards Dinah only to stop, a hiss of pain falling from her lips, as she presses her hand against the wound in her side. 

“Alright, Siren, let’s get you sitting down so that I can take a look at that,” Dinah says, because she needs something to do. Because patching her up is easier than focusing on what exactly the concern that's consuming her means. What any of this means. 

She moves forward her hands holding Siren steady. Not pushing and pulling, not kissing and fucking. Something softer. Something new for them. Something almost like a relationship. Something stable.

“Dinah.”

“Yes,” she prompts, looking up to meet her gaze. 

Except Siren doesn’t look like she has a question, instead she just shakes her head softly, “No, I mean - Call me Dinah.”

She pauses for a second.

Hesitates.

“What?”

“My name,” Siren corrects - or  _ no,  _ not Siren. “Is Dinah.”

She knew that.

Technically.

The Dinah Laurel Lance of another world.

But calling her  _ Laurel  _ hadn’t seemed right, even when the rest of the team did. It didn’t seem right for whatever this was. Laurel is a name for everyone still clinging onto the ghost of a woman that Dinah had never met.

Which is why she had always called her Siren in her head, anything else was… 

It’s odd.

A bit uncomfortable given the fact that they have the same name, but of all the strange things that have happened between them, the strange enough fact of this  _ relationship  _ was even happening, somehow she had a feeling that they could work through this. 

“Okay,” she says, slowly, her hands still there steady, comforting, “Okay, Dinah, let’s get you patched up.” 

  
  



End file.
